Corridors of the Night (18 page)

One never knew what wounds other people carried where no one saw them. She spoke more gently.

‘I simply want to make the usual checks, Miss Radnor. I will not disturb him. Then I shall report to Mr Rand, after which, if he has no more for us to do, I will make sure the children are also well.’

Adrienne stepped aside without speaking, but she indicated that Hester go through the door. She did not open it for her.

Radnor was awake, sitting almost upright against the pillows, a book lying open in front of him. However, he was watching the door. Hester was certain from the expression of interest on his face that he had heard at least part of the conversation just outside.

‘I am glad you are feeling well enough to read,’ Hester said with a slight smile as she closed the door behind her.

He held up the book for a moment, and then closed it. ‘It’s good,’ he observed. ‘But no substitute for life. Do you miss the army, Mrs Monk? Don’t you want to pit your wits against something more than extending some old man’s life by a couple of years?’

She stared back at him. ‘Yes, Mr Radnor. Right now I would much rather be at home, but unfortunately I don’t have that choice. There are lots of things I like to do, and this isn’t one of them.’

He smiled. ‘Honesty at last! But you would like to see Rand succeed, wouldn’t you? You’d like to be part of it. Are you going to lie to me about that?’ He looked as if he would enjoy that, savour his superiority in at least acknowledging the truth within himself.

‘Yes, I would like to,’ she admitted. ‘That doesn’t mean that I will.’

‘You mean escape?’ he asked with satisfaction. ‘You haven’t the fire, or the intelligence. You’ll always stay in the safe bounds of doing your duty.’

‘You are definitely much better.’ She reached for his wrist to take his pulse. She touched his forehead with the back of her other hand. It felt warm, but with the warmth of life, not of fever.

‘You won’t go, will you?’ he challenged. ‘You’ll stay, always hoping for mercy from Rand – until he kills you!’

Hester finished counting his pulse. It was a fraction fast, but well within normal.

She ignored his comment. ‘You are much better, but you have had a brush with death, and I think you know that.’

‘God in heaven, of course I know that. It is my body that is ill, not my mind. Stop talking to me as if I were senile! I’m still young enough to take you, with passion you’ve never even imagined. I could leave you breathless and gasping for more.’

‘Which I doubt you would be able to give,’ she responded with a touch of cold amusement, although in fact she felt peculiarly vulnerable. She was used to fairly uncontrolled remarks from soldiers. Life and death are very close at times.

He glared at her. Then she recognised something other than fury in him, and she knew exactly what it was. It was terror, the all-consuming terror of annihilation, of becoming nothing, not even a hole in the darkness. He was well enough now not to long for the peace of death as an end of pain, but as an irrevocable step into oblivion.

There were no words that would make a difference, and she was afraid he would see the understanding in her face.

‘With luck, you will have a good night, and feel like breakfast in the morning,’ she said blandly. She hated the sound of her own voice, as trite as if she had seen and understood nothing. It was insulting to her own intelligence. And yet it was still better than acknowledging the truth.

She made the bed tidy and comfortable, leaving a small night candle burning so Radnor was not in the dark. The country dark was absolute on a moonless night, nothing like the city where there was always a lamp lit somewhere, however faint, and usually the sounds of traffic, hoofs, wheels, and the rattle of harnesses, the reminder that there were other living beings in the world.

This would be complete – as he might envision death to be.

As Hester left the room, she saw Adrienne waiting, watching. Hester suggested that she sleep in the chair beside him, uncomfortable as that was.

‘Of course!’ Adrienne said sharply. ‘What did you think I was going to do – go to my own room and forget about him? I’m not a paid nurse.’ She said the words as if they were obscene.

Hester did not remind her that she was not either, but a prisoner kept under threat of death.

‘If you were a nurse, Miss Radnor,’ she said quite gently, ‘you would know that we never ignore or abandon a patient, any more than a doctor would, whatever our conditions of service, paid or not.’

Adrienne stared at her for several more seconds, then moved her position with a gesture of discomfort. ‘No,’ she said at last. ‘I suppose you can’t, can you?’

‘Adrienne!’ Hester said quickly.

Adrienne looked back. ‘Yes?’

‘I want him to live, for a lot of reasons, but this is a dangerous and controversial experiment. I think you know that, but you are prepared to take the risks in order to save your father’s life.’

‘Of course I am!’

‘Hamilton Rand cares only about it succeeding, and the innumerable people it could save in the future. But in doing this he has imprisoned three children and is risking their lives by taking blood from them.’

‘How else could he do it?’ Adrienne protested.

‘Probably no other way,’ Hester said honestly. ‘And if he succeeds he’ll go down in history as one of medicine’s greatest heroes. But have you thought what will happen if he fails?’

Adrienne was close to tears. Her face looked almost bloodless.

‘We can’t let it fail.’

‘But if it does, have you thought of what Rand and the gardener will do with us?’ Hester hated saying it, but she might never have another chance.

Adrienne stared at her, her eyes dark with horror as the understanding sank into her mind.

‘You hadn’t,’ Hester said. ‘Maybe you don’t care if he kills me. And he will have to. He has kidnapped me. He can’t afford to trust that I won’t tell the police. My husband is a policeman! And the three children – he’ll have to kill them as well. Or maybe he’ll have the gardener do it—’

‘Stop it!’ Adrienne sobbed.

‘And you,’ Hester went on. ‘Do you think he’ll let you live? Risk you going out into the world and telling everyone what happened?’

‘But I wouldn’t tell.’

Hester smiled bitterly. ‘Maybe not this year . . . or next. But if you’re dead too, then you won’t ever tell.’

‘What . . . what do you want me to do?’ Adrienne whispered.

‘If the experiment fails, then we must escape – with the children.’

‘Then why are you trying to save him? Why not just let him die and make your escape now?’

‘Because I couldn’t live with it – could you?’

For a long moment Adrienne stared at Hester and there was understanding in her eyes, and respect. Then she turned and went into Radnor’s room, closing the door firmly.

Hester was woken in the night by the sound of the lock in her bedroom door turning and then Rand’s voice, sharp-edged.

‘Get dressed, Mrs Monk, and then come downstairs immediately. Radnor is having some kind of a crisis. Now, Mrs Monk. Right now.’

Old memories came back in a flood: being woken in the night for battle-wounded coming in. It was as if the years between had vanished. In less than two minutes she had dressed warmly, since the fires had been banked for the night. She wound her hair up into a coil and secured it with pins so it would not fall across her face. Another few seconds and her boots were fastened.

Rand had left her bedroom door open. She went straight across the landing and down the stairs as fast as was safe. She could hear in her memory the voice of Florence Nightingale telling her not to hurry so much that she was careless. Care – always do things properly. Never panic, absolutely never. Apart from being pointless, it frightened other people.

Now she pushed open the door to Radnor’s room calmly, still tying her apron with a bow, and went in.

Adrienne was standing by the bed, ashen-faced, her hair disarranged, half pinned up, the other half wild and fallen as if she had torn at it in anguish. Now her hands were knotted together in front of her, white-knuckled.

‘Where have you been?’ she demanded as soon as she saw Hester. ‘Why weren’t you here?’

‘She has to sleep sometime,’ Rand said quietly. ‘Mrs Monk, do what you can.’ He looked at her, and then back at the prostrate form of Radnor lying on the bed. His arms were flung wide in the tangle of sheets, and his eyes were closed. His colour was terrible: grey-white around the eyes and fever-red on his cheeks. He seemed to be unaware of them, as if already falling into a coma.

Hester walked over to him, brushing past Adrienne and obliging her to move out of the way. She looked at Radnor more closely, and then touched her hand to his forehead. He was damp and burning hot. His nightshirt was so soaked with sweat she could almost have wrung it out. Even the sheets were damp.

‘Get clean sheets if you have them,’ she said, mainly to Adrienne. ‘If you don’t then we’ll make do with blankets.’

‘You can’t put him in blankets,’ Adrienne protested. ‘They’re rough and scratchy.’

Hester turned to her and looked into her eyes. ‘Do as I tell you,’ she said firmly. ‘These sheets are soiled and wet. Bring back at least two towels and a bowl of water. Now do it!’

Adrienne looked as if she had been struck.

‘Do it!’ Rand snapped.

This time she obeyed, turning on her heel and clattering out of the room clumsily, bumping into the doorpost in her agitation.

Hester looked at Radnor and felt the panic surge up inside her. Her mouth was dry and her heart was beating violently as though it might burst. If Radnor died, then Rand would have to hide what he had done. He would have no more use for Hester, or for Charlie, Maggie and Mike. He could not afford to let them live, and risk their telling anyone what had happened here.

She looked at Radnor again. She must clear her mind of everything else. His fever was raging. She had no idea why, or even if it was connected to the latest blood transfusion. It could be something else, a simple germ that a healthy person could have fought. That was the best hope, and probably the only thing she could do to help.

She turned to Rand. ‘We must try to reduce his temperature. If the fever gets any worse it will kill him. Before we change the bedding we will give him a cool bath. We’ll use wet towels, and then the evaporation will cool him further. Bring as many towels as you have.’

‘We haven’t many . . .’ he began.

‘Clothes will do, clean or used,’ she replied. ‘We have to begin as soon as Miss Radnor returns with a bowl of water.’

He went as far as the door before she spoke again.

‘Mr Rand!’

He turned, eyes wide.

‘If we need to put him in a cool bath, have the gardener fill the tub: cool, not cold. He may have to help us carry him. I assume he will do whatever you tell him to?’

‘Yes, yes of course.’ Nodding with a small gesture, Rand hurried off to obey.

Adrienne returned with a bowl of water and two towels. ‘What are you doing?’ she demanded. ‘Haven’t you got medicine to give him? Why are you just standing there? I know you hate him, but you can’t let him die! That’s murder!’ Her voice rose dangerously near hysteria.

Hester needed her under some self-control.

‘Miss Radnor, I require your help,’ she said calmly. ‘This is not an appropriate time to let your feelings overwhelm your judgement. I am going to do what I can to save your father. I don’t know what has happened to him to bring on this fever, and I have no way to find out. Put the bowl down and pass me one of those small towels. Now!’

Reluctantly Adrienne obeyed, giving Hester a hand towel.

Hester took it. ‘Now help me. We are going to wash him down gently with the water . . .’

‘It’s cold!’ Adrienne gulped. ‘And what does it matter if he’s clean? You stupid creature, he’s dying!’ Her voice rose to the edge of a scream.

‘I’m not washing him,’ Hester snapped at her. ‘The water is not cold, it’s cool! I’m trying to reduce his fever, before it stops his heart. Now do as you’re told. Hold that bowl steady and pull the sheet back from his body, down to the waist.’

Adrienne obeyed, but unwillingly, distress clear in her face.

Hester wrung out the towel and laid it gently on Radnor’s pallid flesh. She did it again, and again. Then she laid it on his brow and smoothed it over his cheeks, softly, as if she cared for him.

Adrienne watched, resentfully at first, then slowly with degrees of understanding.

‘I’ll get fresh water,’ she offered after the sixth time.

‘Cooler,’ Hester told her.

When Adrienne came back she continued. Radnor’s pulse was still racing and weaker, but his temperature was lower.

‘Put the bowl down and take one of the other towels,’ Hester told her. ‘And do the same to his legs, as high up as you can.’

Adrienne looked startled. ‘I can’t! It’s—’

Hester tried to be patient. ‘Do you want him alive or dead? His legs aren’t any different from any other man’s.’

‘He’s my father!’

Hester met Adrienne’s gaze, and saw the terror in her, the embarrassment, the fear of loneliness.

‘Adrienne,’ Hester said more gently, ‘this is necessary if we are to save him. If you prefer to, you continue with the upper part of his body, just as I was doing, and I will take his legs. It is beginning to work.’ Please heaven that was true. ‘But we must keep going. If the fever breaks then we will be all right . . . at least for the time being.’

‘Will he?’ Adrienne’s voice was hoarse. ‘Are you sure?’

What should she say? It was all they could do. There was no other way she knew of to bring the fever down before it killed him. Perhaps all their lives depended on it.

‘Keep cooling him down with the water,’ Hester told her. ‘Gently! If we can lower the fever it will save him.’

The tears spilled over and ran down Adrienne’s face. ‘Thank you.’ She took a deep, shuddering breath.

They worked all night. Rand came back with tea for both of them and a mixture of spirits and cordial to offer to Radnor if he should regain consciousness and be able to swallow.

As the very first light showed palely in the east, so that black branches of the trees were outlined against the sky, Radnor opened his eyes.